


Together

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [4]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Family Issues, M/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin is surprised and delighted when Brian makes an unexpected trip to New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> At some stage (hopefully soon), I will be back with updates for my WIPs. For now, I hope you enjoy this one-shot... I really enjoyed writing it. I haven't had enough time/inspiration lately and this was a rare reprieve!

Early mornings in Justin’s neighbourhood are a strange and wonderful thing.

They’re so unpredictable - some mornings mirror the night previous, with parties still raging and spilling roaring music and voices through open windows and into the streets. Others are dead quiet and utterly still, with no sign of life anywhere. And some, like this one, remain in between - with patches of activity interrupting the peace, like a random cyclist swerving down the empty street, or wasted party-goers stumbling along trying to find their way home.

Justin divides his attention between enjoying the early morning and focusing on his latest sketch. He is close to filling the sketchpad Brian gifted him during his visit a few weeks earlier. Each page features a window from along his street, each with an imagined scenario within. A couple cuddled in an armchair. A baby screaming in its cot, no parents to be seen (Justin is convinced this piece speaks for 90% of the babies in his neighbourhood, if the goddamn noise is anything to go by). The old man who Justin always sees on the 6 train, writing on a typewriter. A girl brushing her hair and staring out the window longingly.

This morning’s piece is a little boy building a fort in which he will nest, much like the forts Gus loves to build. He once confided in Justin that the forts “make the bad scary feelings go away”, which broke Justin’s heart. Gus’ anxiety since the move to Toronto really gets to Justin; he’s heard plenty of stories from Brian, Linds, and Mel that range from concerning to shattering.

His worrying about Gus is disrupted by the sound of footfalls on the pavement. Justin freezes for a moment - he has his mother to blame for that. During their call yesterday, he let slip how often he spends sitting on his building’s stoop in the early hours and she _lost_ it, putting a dent in his fearlessness in the process.

 _Justin Taylor, have you lost your mind? 3am, are you kidding me?! What if a drug dealer… what if a_ **_murderer…_ ** _what if you got mugged?!?! How hard is it for you to stay inside like a regular human being? It would be one thing in Pittsburgh, but in New York?! In your neighbourhood? What is the_ **_matter_ ** _with you?!_

It didn’t go over at all well when Justin retorted, _How is getting mugged worse than being approached by a drug dealer or being murdered?_

No, that didn’t go over at _all_ well.

Fortunately, the person approaching his stoop isn’t a drug dealer, murderer, or - god forbid! - a mugger. It’s Brian. The unexpected sight of him gives Justin a shock, but only for a moment. Then a smile bursts across his face. He rushes to stand up, dropping his sketchpad and pencil in the process, and grins even bigger as he sees the smile on Brian’s face.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Brian says casually, as he strolls up to the stoop.

“Morning,” Justin echoes. He laughs a little and asks, “Are you really here? Or am I hallucinating? I haven’t slept.”

Brian smirks. “I can tell. I haven’t either.”

Immediately, Justin snarks back, “I can tell.”

Brian steps closer, so that they’re almost touching. “Are you accustomed to experiencing hallucinatory visions of me?”

“They rarely involve anyone else,” Justin admits, grinning.

Brian grins right back, then reaches for Justin. His hands settle on Justin’s hips, and he pulls Justin in closer. What with standing on the first step of the stoop, Justin is just slightly taller than Brian, which he rather enjoys for a change. He slips his hands to curve around the back of Brian’s neck, and then brings their lips together in a tender kiss.

After a few seconds of bliss, Brian pulls away to murmur, “Could a hallucination do that?”

Chuckling, Justin teases, “He’d normally have me bent over the railing by now.”

“So he’s faster than me.”

“If you can believe it.”

Then they’re kissing again, and it makes Justin’s very soul sing with joy. How long has it been? Wait, who is he kidding? He knows exactly how long it’s been. Three weeks, one day, and… nine hours. In short, too long. But what does that matter now? Here Brian is, in New York, standing right at Justin’s stoop, held in Justin’s arms. He’s definitely not a hallucination.

 _Definitely_ not - Brian has just pinched Justin’s ass.

“Fucking ow!” Justin laughs and thumps Brian’s shoulder.

“I thought you should be sure,” Brian says in that evil way of his. “Now, about bending you over something…”

“Wanna come upstairs?”

“I was thinking downtown…” Brian grins, somewhat sheepishly, and elaborates, “Where our hotel is.”

“Brian…” Justin sighs. “I have a perfectly good bed upstairs.”

“You’re playing fast and loose with the phrase ‘perfectly good’, Sunshine…” Brian strokes his hand down Justin’s back in a longing sort of way, as if their reunion hasn’t yet cancelled out the weeks of being separated. “We can go upstairs if you want. Or we can go downtown, to our executive suite, with the king-size bed and the tub that takes up half the bathroom…”

It sounds so dreamy that Justin forgets his desire to have Brian in his apartment, in his bed… instead, he finds himself fantasising about the suite with its massive bed and bathtub.

His temptation must be plainly apparent, for Brian starts laughing. Rather cockily, he asks, “So downtown it is?”

“Downtown it is,” Justin mutters. “Bastard. Will you at least come up while I pack some things?”

“You won’t be needing clothes…”

Justin gives Brian a light shove, then grabs his hand and starts leading him up the steps. He leans down quickly to grab his sketchpad and pencil, and then they continue forth.

Upstairs, Justin starts grabbing bits and pieces to stash in his satchel - his toothbrush, some more art supplies, condoms and lube (bizarrely, Brian forgot them last time, which led to an inconvenient dash to Walgreens in the middle of the night), and clean clothes that are so much more appealing than the jeans and tee he’s been wearing for almost a full twenty-four hours.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Brian calls from the hole in the wall otherwise known as the kitchen, where Justin has strung up countless artworks.

Justin closes his satchel and goes to join Brian, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees how Brian is looking at his artwork. The glow of admiration makes Justin’s chest clench. He closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around Brian’s middle from behind. With his face pressed against Brian’s back, Justin mumbles, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 _I’m glad you’re here._ It sounds so much less tragic than, _I’ve missed you,_ whilst speaking the same truth. Brian responds by grabbing Justin’s left hand and bringing it to touch his lips.

As Justin breathes in Brian’s scent, something catches his attention. The smell of tobacco is stronger than usual, and it’s paired with the lingering trace of cheap coffee.

“Did you drive here?”

“My car’s in that lot, just by the subway.”

That worries Justin. He doesn’t say anything, he simply nuzzles Brian’s back… but to himself, he wonders what went wrong. Having Brian show up unexpectedly isn’t unusual - he seems to delight in visiting New York and often loves to surprise Justin. But to have him show up at this time, having spent all night driving… well, that doesn’t bode well.

“Let’s go,” Justin says softly. “You know, we could walk… stop for breakfast partway?”

“Sure,” Brian replies, and off they go.

Corey, his friend from work, often expresses horror at Justin’s penchant for walking around the city. _You know we have the subway for a reason, right? Cabs? Bikes? Various modes of non-pedestrian transportation?_ But Justin doesn’t care. As much as he enjoys travelling via subway here, there, and everywhere, there are times when he just needs to walk. It makes no difference to him what the distance is - fifteen blocks, fifty blocks, whatever. He likes soaking up the city.

 _You can do that from a_ **_bike,_ ** Corey once insisted indignantly.

 _Yeah, maybe if I was suicidal,_ Justin retorted, mortified. He’s seen a cyclist clipped first-hand - it wasn’t pretty. Besides, the idea of the city flitting by has little appeal. He likes seeing it properly, tuning into the details, which he couldn’t do with the speed (nor the scariness) of cycling.

It pleases him that Brian feels the same way. Sure, Brian likes the subway too, plus he’s been known to splurge on cabs or even private drivers. But they often walk around the city together, and during Brian’s visits they’ve covered extensive ground.

As they head downtown, hand-in-hand, Justin tunes in to the early morning atmosphere. Today the city is quiet and empty, with a cool breeze flowing through its streets. There aren’t many disturbances to their walk, other than the occasional cab or cop car passing by. They don’t talk, which Justin doesn’t mind. This is one of their comfortable silences, which makes Justin feel completely at home.

They’re more than halfway to the hotel when Justin spots a diner lit up across the street. The sign above the door says ‘4 hours’ in neon, with the missing ‘2’ flickering in and out faintly every so often. Justin squeezes Brian’s hand and leads him towards the diner, where they’re greeted by a sleepy waitress and a suspiciously energetic waiter.

The waiter takes their order and bounces on his heels as he reads it back to them. “Pancakes with bacon and a mint smoothie; french toast with fresh fruit; and a pot of coffee. Coming right up, guys.”

As soon as the waiter walks away and out of earshot, Justin laughs and remarks, “Whatever he’s on is working.”

With a grin, Brian says, “Reckon we can score from him?”

“I can score from anybody,” Justin boasts, which makes Brian laugh. That gives Justin pause - should he talk to Brian about the motivation for this impromptu trip? Or should he leave it and enjoy it for what it is?

He decides to wait until their food has arrived, partly because he wants to enjoy Brian’s happy company for a while longer, but also because he’s painfully distracted by the promise of pancakes. He’ll need to sate his growing hunger before they can have a proper conversation.

When the food arrives, Justin damn near inhales half of his plate in one go. Brian isn’t that much more restrained, and Justin can imagine why. Normally, when Brian visits, he hops on a plane and then gets a cab to meet Justin. Brian likes flying. He appreciates the swiftness of it. For him to choose the alternative… well, it’s never a good sign. Justin knows what Brian is like when he drives. He will have gotten in his car, picked up coffee when stopping for gas, and might have stopped to chain-smoke. He won’t have snacked during the drive - in fact, Justin has a mental image of Brian speeding along, gripping the wheel, eyes pinned to the road ahead with grim determination and the persistent thought of _get me the fuck away from here._

But just as Justin is about to ask Brian about it, Brian surprises him yet again.

“How old is Gus?”

Justin frowns. “How old is…?”

Brian arches an eyebrow pointedly, and repeats, “How old is Gus?”

“Five,” Justin says, bewildered.

“Five,” Brian echoes. He nods. “And how old is J.R.?”

Justin’s bewilderment ends. He knows where this is going. He reaches across the table and takes Brian’s hand in his, just as Brian snaps, “She’s younger, right? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but she’s his _little sister,_ is she not?”

“She is,” Justin says softly, as he traces patterns on the inside of Brian’s wrist, which he hopes are calming.

“Good,” Brian mutters. “So I’m not wrong: Gus is her big brother, he’s fucking five, which… oh, right, that means I’ve been a father for _five years.”_

“You have,” Justin confirms. He offers Brian a smile as he adds, “I remember the night it all began _very_ well.”

That seems to cheer Brian a little. He returns Justin’s smile and, once again, draws Justin’s hand to his mouth. After pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, he confides, “Not everyone is as clear on the timeline as you are, Sunshine.”

Justin hesitates, then asks, “Is it Mel? Has she said something?”

“We had a fight last weekend when I was there.” Brian scowls, but doesn’t elaborate further. “That was bad enough. But then I get back to Pittsburgh and I’m getting parenting advice from all fucking angles. Your mom, I don’t mind-”

“I can tell her to stop-”

“I said I don’t mind!” Brian winces visibly. “Sorry. I mean it, though. It’s not her.”

“Who is it then?” Justin shrugs when Brian gives him a look. “What? It could be Deb, Michael… hell, Daph’s been pretty opinionated since her stint in the paediatric ward…”

“It’s not Daphne,” Brian says, with a tone that suggests he finds the idea utterly absurd. “Mikey, on the other hand…”

He pauses for a long while, and Justin doesn’t try to break the silence. He waits for Brian to do so. When Brian does speak, he sounds exhausted. “If I have to hear one more piece of parenting advice from him, I’m going to lose my shit. I get that I’m not the best father-”

“Yes you are,” Justin blurts out. “Ask Gus! He’s always talking about you.”

Brian gives him a dubious look. Justin scoffs and insists, “Every time I talk to him, all he wants to tell me about is you. _Daddy took me to the park for a play, Daddy and I had a sleepover, Daddy gave me a new book and we read it together…_ Brian, the kid adores you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Fuck off with ‘yeah, but’, that’s a bullshit attitude.” Justin takes a sip of his coffee, then adds quietly, “If anyone ever listened in on our conversations, they probably wouldn’t know Gus has moms. Seriously. All he wants to talk about is you and how you’re his hero.”

That makes Brian smile again. He almost looks bashful, which makes Justin grin. He squeezes Brian’s hand. “You’re a fan-fucking-tastic father. Gus thinks so, I think so. You know better than to question the two of us.”

Now Brian laughs, which pleases Justin greatly. He lets go of Brian’s hand so that they can return to their meals, and then he asks, “So what’s up with Michael?”

“Haven’t you heard? He’s Pittsburgh’s resident parenting expert.” Brian stabs a couple of blueberries with his fork and snaps, “And apparently, I’m in dire need of his expertise.”

“Hmm,” Justin murmurs.

“I get it,” Brian mutters. “He’s excited about J.R., I get that. He loves Gus, I _get that.”_

“He loves you,” Justin adds. “He’s clearly psyched that you’re in this together.”

“You love me,” Brian counters. “You’re psyched that we’re in this together-”

“Well, not quite in the same way…”

“As good as,” Brian says, glossing over that element carelessly, which Justin finds curiously touching. “And somehow, you’re not constantly preaching at me for ‘spoiling’ or ‘over-indulging’ Gus, or sharing endless goddamn wisdoms about what it means to be a good father. I’ve been a father for five fucking years! He’s the one that’s new to this, I… I know I wasn’t always… what Gus deserved, but fucking hell, I’m trying now.”

“And succeeding,” Justin puts in emphatically. “You’re a wonderful with him.”

Brian smiles, but it drops away quickly, then he sighs. “According to the munchers and Deb, this is what co-parenting is. _Sharing.”_

If ever a word has been uttered so disparagingly, Justin isn’t aware of it. He almost laughs, but the temptation isn’t quite strong enough - not given the current subject matter, which is clearly getting under Brian’s skin. 

Sounding wearied, Brian continues, “But I needed a break from it. I needed this…” he pauses, then in a near-whisper, says, “I needed you.”

It strikes Justin in that moment that he and New York are Brian’s way of breaking from his usual reality. The sense of distance between them and their worlds makes Justin’s stomach sink… but he tries to ignore it. He stands up, leans across the table, and kisses Brian. The way Brian angles into it encourages Justin to deepen the kiss. When it’s over, he whispers in Brian’s ear, “I’m always here for you.”

A lot of things have changed since he moved here, but that hasn’t. So far as Justin is concerned, it never will.

And so he kisses Brian again, to drive the point home, and to help soothe his troubled partner. It’s awkward, standing and leaning over the table, so Justin abandons his own seat and goes to sit next to Brian. He gives Brian a look:  _You okay?_

Brian kisses him. Justin decides to interpret that as:  _I will be._

*

It’s as though they’re doing everything backwards today. Normally their reunions start with sex, but this time they take ages to get to that point.

After breakfast at the diner, they continue their walk to the hotel, strolling slowly and contentedly through the streets. Brian’s rant seems to have helped; he appears lighter, less troubled. They talk about Gus (when Brian will be seeing him next, what they’ll do, how Gus is coping), and work (Brian’s is going well, Justin’s is… going, which is about all can be said), and other snippets of their somewhat-separate lives.

When they reach the hotel, they jump in the shower, but instead of rushing into anything they stand underneath the hot spray and kiss lazily. It’s during their extended make-out session that Justin notices the tension in Brian’s back, neck, and shoulders. He stops kissing Brian and orders him out of the shower and into bed.

There’s no massage oils, sadly, but the complimentary toiletries include a pomegranate and fig lotion that feels deliciously silky. Justin straddles Brian’s legs, covers his own hands in lotion, and starts soothing Brian with a long and luxurious massage.

After three weeks, to be this close and to have this kind of time together… it’s thrilling. Justin takes an attentive and indulgent approach, massaging every inch of Brian’s body, even sliding his hands into Brian’s hair to massage his scalp. The lotion leaves a greasy sheen, but Justin cares not - they can tend to that later.

As the massage continues, Justin gets more and more tempted. He starts imagining how to evolve it into something more… he’d love nothing more than to rim Brian, finger him, fuck him…

… but Brian is asleep.

Justin laughs to himself when he realises it. He eases off Brian and goes to wash his hands, then grabs a towel and goes to pat the excess lotion off Brian’s relaxed body. Then he tosses the towel aside, slips into bed, and covers them both with the blanket.

Brian’s head is resting on a pillow, right on the edge of it, with his head turned to the side. There’s certainly room enough to share, so Justin moves in close and props his head on the other side of the pillow. Lying on his side, facing Brian, he gazes at him and watches him sleep for a few minutes. Brian is peaceful, beautiful… captivatingly so. But as much as Justin would like to continue enjoying this moment, he’s tired as well.

He edges just a little bit closer, so that he can gently place his arm over Brian. The softness of Brian’s skin is pleasing. Justin strokes Brian’s back for a couple of seconds, then he stills, and closes his eyes.

He falls asleep with Brian’s warm breath tickling his face - a gentle reminder that tonight, he’s not alone. Tonight, they’re together.

**The End**


End file.
